So, here’s a thing that we should be really, clearly, surface-level, genuinely aware of.
Exercise one day, get up early and find yourself able to get dressed, wash your face, brush your teeth and get back to the computer, etc with enough time to start a post. Even if you stayed up rather late watching videos and had your legs mangled in the night by an animal who doesn’t care that maybe once in your life you’d like to stretch your bones out while you catch those forty winks. To have any sort of energy, any sort of pep, well, that’s fairly miraculous.
And that’s just from a half an hour of walking/spazzing out. Imagine if I had energy like this on the regular, like off and on I have in the past, when I don’t know, I exercised or ate right or thought positive or..? This is pretty much a one-to-one, if, then statement. If I exercise, then I feel good. If I don’t exercise, then I feel shitty.
You want it to be other than it is, but at the same time, the way it is…is simple. Uncomplicated. It’s a recipe for less bullshit, better mornings, bigger ideas, less fear, more output. So, I don’t know about trying to go and see a movie or doing something for the last part of my therapist’s request tonight, because it’s probably a better idea to make time to erode some of this general exhaustion I still feel. I mean, it’s not magic, I’ve still got my aches and pains and I’ve still got this strong desire to just lay down and close my eyes. But it’s not worth trying to “sleep” for two minutes before I have to get up and finish readying the day. And sometimes, the shittiness makes me think it’s worth falling apart over. Worth pushing everything else out a bit just for two minutes of awkward, unpleasant silence.
Don’t forget to make that payment today.
There will be time for more, one hopes. One thinks. Time to put some tights on and get to work.
I am rather interesting. I am always sure I have it right and then I ignore that in favor of good feelings.
Working on finding new sources for good feelings. Setting a land speed record for unloading the dryer?
Tomorrow’s the official start date. Pulling on the Wellingtons, gripping and regripping the harpoon, and marching down to the shore, standing on the docks in my yellow raincoat for a brief moment of sea air before clambering down into the rowboat that will take me to the places where there is no shore, no dock, no reef or buoy. Here I will cast my net and here I will catch what is offered up to me. It may be nothing, but I will be there to receive the nothingness.
I have to email Ms. B. It will be hard to explain that a dash of heartbreak and a lot of perfectionism is what has kept me from doing so before now, but I want to do things rather than regret not having done them.